


Something To Remember Me By

by AddySnow



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Amputation, Angst, Gen, Hurt, apprentice with his mentor's clingy son, dream gives tommy a gift, shapeshifter techno, techno tries his best, winged tommy, winginnit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29209782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AddySnow/pseuds/AddySnow
Summary: Techno returns home after leaving Tommy home alone. Dream decided to stop by to give Tommy a gift.TW: Blood, Injury, Amputation
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 334





	1. A Note

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Winged Tommy !!! Also shapeshifter Techno

Technoblade shook his jacket out over the doormat outside, then quickly stepped in. The snow had started coming down a bit harder now, he noted absentmindedly. He started to take off his gear and hang up his things where they needed to be. Then, routinely walked to the kitchen and grabbed a pot wordlessly, filling it with water and setting it on the burner. Routine was comforting, he was basically on autopilot as he was busy wondering about how Phil's trip was going. However, cooking on a gas stove was a tad hard with no matches, he realized as he held the empty matchbox before tossing it into the bin. Techno, who realized his absence with a slight brow raise, called out for the boy, "Hey Tommy! Can ya bring some matches over here?"

A few beats of no response and Techno sighed, setting down the pot. The damn kid was probably asleep or something. He walked out of the kitchen, a little pang in his stomach. Usually, Tommy refused to sleep when he was home alone, and he knew Phil was set to come home early tomorrow morning so there was no way anyone else was here. The voices hurriedly whispered with worry but he pushed them away, they always worried about Tommy. If anything, it was probably just his body being exhausted from healing, he was in horrible shape when he finally did find him so that would make sense. Techno pretended like he wasn't making a lot of excuses for him to have to be alright.

He walked up the stairs towards the room he had given Tommy, although at night he stayed in Techno's, and knocked on the door. He couldn't help but notice the slight shake in his hands when he rapped his knuckles on the wood, "Hey Tommy did you hear me?" 

No response. "Kid come on, not funny," He raised his voice slightly so that if he was asleep, it would definitely wake him up. 

After listening for even the sound of movement and hearing none, he sighed, "I'm opening the door, Tommy, okay?" 

After a beat of silence, he turned the handle, noticing how cold it felt. His entire body was jolted as his blood froze, the room was silent besides the wind that burst through the window. There was blood covering almost every surface. Feathers were strewn across the floor and his eyes shot around the room quickly, "TOMMY. TOMMY WHERE ARE YOU?"

There was not even a grunt in response as he quickly entered and started looking around, checking for any threats. Quickly he saw a pair of legs on the floor next to the bed and Technoblade rushed over, finally finding his brother. Or what was left of him.

Tommy was laid out on his stomach, his cheek pressed down on the floorboards blankly. His breath came out in shallow, shuttering gasps. A horrifying amount of blood covered the floor around him and Techno stared at the cause of it with his heart in his throat. Tommy's wings were gone. 

No, No, he just had to have them vanished right? There's, There's no way. Technoblade felt a panicky tremor in his body and he suddenly swallowed everything down, he had to help Tommy. Quickly Techno pulled off one of the smaller blankets from the bed and gently began to apply pressure. He didn't bother trying to wake Tommy up, it would be easier to work on his wounds with him unconscious and he really didn't want to have to be awake for this. He scooped him up in his arms and quickly rushed downstairs, careful not to jostle the boy around. His body felt so light. Small. 

The shapeshifter finally reached the end of the stairs and found the nearest table by his medical supplies, something Phil had always insisted on keeping completely stocked, "Just in case, ya know?" He gently laid down Tommy on his stomach, back up. He used a nearby pillow to hold him up slightly to his side so he was in a low recovery position. Techno grabbed supplies, the voices suddenly hushing as they understood that he needed to focus on the kid's injuries carefully. He grabbed scissors and cautiously cut off Tommy's shirt, peeling it off and discarding it to the side.

He carefully inspected it first, to tell the full extent of the injury, swallowing hard. His wings were gone. Completely. The base of the amputated limbs was not clean, the cut was jagged. It almost made him sick, Technoblade stilled his hands, it took several chops to take off the wings. Meaning someone held Tommy down. Awake. To take several hacks at them, which were already prone to be very sensitive, to get them off. He wasn't sure how well Tommy's body would fare under MORE stress added onto the already existing damage from exile and his journey out in the cold, and that was just the physical damage, let alone what would happen when the boy woke up. He shook his head, not the time yet. 

He began to clean the wound and surrounding area, carefully watching Tommy make sure he stayed unconscious. He continued to work until he finished wrapping the wound with individual bandages, then wrapped it around his chest to stabilize it and keep it clean. 

Technoblade sighed and stopped to wash his hands again, preparing for more work. This went on for a few smaller injuries, mainly on his left arm which Techno completely wrapped up. He had to take time to carefully remove glass shards from a bunch of cuts on that arm, if he had to guess, something glass was broken across his arm as he defended himself. Finally, with that, he had bandaged all of the physical wounds Tommy had. He quickly went upstairs and returned with an old tank top, gently pulling it on the unconscious boy.

Techno sighed and quickly put all of his supplies back in place before carefully picking the boy up in his arms. He brought the kid up to his own room, where he could watch him and keep him safe. Keep him safe, like he failed to before. He pulled a single blanket over him, enough to keep him warm but not hot or weighed down, to help reduce any panic and to keep his temperature stable so he could monitor it for any fevers. However, Techno decided to take the chance while he knew Tommy was still asleep. 

Technoblade quickly began to walk to the boy’s bedroom, where it reeked of iron. He mentally noted to wait for Phil to return to watch him and then clean up the mess. Large, golden feathers were messily stuck to half the room’s surfaces. Blood joined the other half. He paced the room for a moment, no sign of Tommy’s wings anywhere. The man, now with a more pig appearance, leaned and shut the large window. It didn’t take a genius to figure how the attacker got in. As he scanned the room again, he finally saw confirmation. On the side table, there was a small, torn piece of paper held down by a small flowerpot Tommy decorated his room with. Picking it up, it simply read:

Something to remember me by  
:)

Technoblade didn’t even notice his hands shaking as he quickly pocketed the note. He knew he couldn’t leave Tommy alone, not like this, so he did what he could, what so few people did for the boy. He stayed. The pigman picked up the small flower pot, it only contained a golden--really more like red and orange, Techno corrected frequently--Chrysanthemum. Tommy was actually quite the gardener, he used to grow lavender and various other flowers and sit with Tubbo to watch the bees. He hadn’t seen the boy with a real flower in a long time, not without a funeral. He realized how long he had just been standing there and shook it off, bringing the pot with him. 

He returned to Tommy’s bedside, moving some of Techno’s books off the table next to the headboard to place the flowerpot. Technoblade put up the books on a nearby shelf, all but one then settled in a nearby chair and began reading. It was easier to read than look at the sleeping boy. He didn't know how to deal with Tommy. Maybe everyone said it, maybe the problem was people tried to deal with him instead of accepting him. Maybe. Maybe that's what got the boy into this mess. Kicked out of his home by his best friend, then all alone with nothing but charred flowers and that whisper in his head standing next to him, and then walking through miles of snow to show up half-dead to a door where someone would have rather have seen you dead, and then just to end up half-dead once you got inside that door. A long list for a child, and that's just half of what that kid has gone through. Just half. 

So, Technoblade made a mental little letter that he would never share, To the kid clutching a flower. To the kid who once grew a garden so his friend could see his favorite bees. To the kid willing to die for some music. For the kid with no brother. For the kid with barely a father. For the kid all alone. For the kid with no wings. For the kid who lost what he barely had. I'm sorry.


	2. A Boy With A Lot To Miss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philza returns from his trips. Tommy wakes up.

Technoblade didn’t sleep that night. He just stayed up and read his books, his eyes turned away from the boy. Only when he checked Tommy’s bandages or temperature did he look at him. Maybe it was because he couldn’t bring himself to look at him because of shame. Maybe it was sadness in some deep form. Maybe it was fear.

Yes, the man who smiled at death might have feared something. The kind of fear where a boy nearly dies in your own home because someone broke in. To your home. In the middle of the arctic where no one should know where you live. It was fear. He was scared of the unconscious boy whose wings were just removed with what he could assume was an axe or sword. Technoblade was scared of him. Of what was done to him.

The man sighed, his boar tail twitched at every sound. Now he just waited for Phil to return. He would know what to do for Tommy. Techno was only good for killing who did this, he wouldn’t be at all prepared for the boy waking up. However, as he watered the Chrysanthemum on the side table, he heard a knock on his front door below. Two raps, then a pause, then three. Philza had returned right on cue. 

Technoblade set down the cup of water and quickly rushed downstairs, the voices--who he had been ignoring since finding Tommy--buzzed excitedly. He turned the corner to see the blond man carefully knocking snow from his boots and jacket outside the door before closing it. He looked up as he flipped his boots to dry, “Hey mate, ‘m back.”

“I’m, uh, yeah I’m glad to see you too. Uh, Phil,” The older man stared at him with a new anxiousness as he noticed the look nonhuman had, “Something happened with Tommy.”

“What. What happened to him,” He said with a sudden change in his voice, “Where is he?”

“Upstairs. His wings… Philza they’re gone. Dream. Dream cut them off.”

\-----

Philza sat next to the boy’s bed. It had been a few hours since the man had arrived from his travels. Since then, he’s just been watching Tommy sleep, frequently pausing to look at his own wings, which were out, and brush his hand over any feathers that stuck out. The explosion where he had protected Wilbur had burned up his wings, ruining them for a long time, they were on the road to healing sure, but it would be a while. Lot of damage for a son you kill anyways. Nonetheless, his wings were able to fly now at the very least, short distances but they were regrowing and healing due to the magic that came from having those wings in the first place. 

However, both of them knew that Tommy would never fly again. He would never spread his wings again. There was nothing left, nothing to grow from beside stumps. No one could do anything about it either. 

After another hour or two of reading and staring, finally, there was the first real movement from the bed since he had laid Tommy there. The boy was waking up, and neither man knew what to do. 

Tommy stretched out a little, a hand immediately rubbing his eyes as he woke up, making quiet sounds. Philza broke the silence in order to not scare the boy, “Hey Tommy.”

The kid jumped slightly but immediately just went back to rubbing his face, half asleep. Finally, he mumbled, “Why the fuck does my back hurt so much, Jesus.”

Technoblade finally spoke, which surprised Phil a little, “Hey kid, what uh, what do you uh, remember last?”

There was a silent pause and Tommy suddenly threw his hand from his face to scramble up to sit. Panic immediately sketched over his features and the man closest to him set a hand on his shoulder, muttering softly that he was safe and okay. The boy barely controlled his breathing, “Where the fuck is the green bastard, he’s here, he broke in where is he, he, he wouldn’t leave that easy, did you kill him? Is he dead? Where is he?”

The pig humanoid stood up, “Tommy, he’s not here, you are safe.”

Tommy took a moment to focus on calming down, “Okay. Okay. Okay, I’m fine. What happened.”

The two of them went silent and he cringed, “Oh god what happened?”

Philza spoke in a soft voice, “Tommy, Dream… Dream took off your wings.”

Tommy stared at him, “Repeat that old man because I swear you just… he... Dream…. No, no, he wouldn’t fucking do that, he knows how important my fuckin’ wings are to me, I mean yeah he used to tie them up so I cou--he is--he was my friend he wouldn’t do that to me. Phil, you’re, you’re lying--”

The boy started to stand up, nearly falling over before Techno grabbed his arm gently to catch him. In a panic, he pulled off the tank top he had been wearing to see the bandages that wrapped around his chest. He still tried to spread out his wings but nothing, they were gone. His wings were gone, they were gone. 

They were gone. He could never fly again. He could never wrap them around his best friend to protect him from the rain. He could never hide things in high places from Wilbur as if he would ever come back anyways. He could never fly with Tubbo again. He could never see L’Manburg from the highest point again. He would never be able to laugh as he escaped Techno by flying again. He could never follow Philza in the sky. He would never be able to fly until the rain turned to snow. He couldn’t do those things ever again. Ever. His wings were gone.

So he started crying. The only thing he had left was gone. No brother, no best friend, no friends, no hope, no home, no safety, no garden, no comfort, nothing was left. Nothing. Sure, he had the two that surrounded him but they would leave him too. Philza did, he would again. Technoblade would kill him with his own hands and a rusty spoon if given the chance. The only thing he knew he would always have was his wings, and even then, they left him too. 

Tommy didn’t realize it but he was now on the floor, his tank top messily shoved back on. He was crying, ugly sobs wracking his body as his screams drowned themselves. His knees dug into the wooden floor, his hands wrapped around the back of his neck. He sobbed. For a long time, as it had been a long, long time since he was allowed to really cry. 

Neither adult moved to comfort him, just watched. After a while, Tommy finally stopped crying and just sat there on his knees. Technoblade gently tried to pull him up and the boy let him, just staring at the floor with an empty expression. He let the boar guide him back to the bed, pulling over an extra blanket or two over his body. Phil put a hand on his shoulder, “Yell if you need anything.” 

Tommy didn’t respond as they left the room to go downstairs. He just laid on his side with his face half pressed into the pillow. He was staring at this flower, which he found was moved to this room. He missed his garden. He missed his wings. He missed Wilbur. He missed Tubbo. He missed a lot of things. He was a boy who had a lot to miss. A boy. Just a boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this is okay, I wrote it this morning. Comments appreciated. I'll start the next chapter tonight or sooner :]


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Short Chapter, 2.5) Tubbo sits in the garden and decides something.

Tubbo silently sat on a bench and picked at the sides of his thumbs. It wasn't *the* bench, but it was *the* garden. Tommy had taken time to build it, grow it, and protect it. Bees hummed around some of the flowers, he watched them as he remembered the time the two boys had managed to move a beehive close to the garden in what felt like a century ago. He looked down and tipped up his sleeve, he still had a scar on his elbow from where their excitement went before their rationality. It had taken them two tries, one went horribly wrong and one was with Wilbur's help, as he had an actual brain cell, to smoke the bees first then move the hive into one of those special Bee Boxes, as Tubbo had named them. 

He didn't notice he was smiling until he let a little, faint giggle at the memory. It almost spooked him, he hadn't really laughed in a while. Tubbo let out a sigh, something of nostalgia and loneliness. He missed Tommy. 

Wait. He missed Tommy. Why did he have to miss him? Why did he have to stay here anymore? He didn't have any meetings to attend and be told what to do, he didn't have any other plans. He broke out into a giant grin, grabbing his jacket and breaking into an exciting run. He would go and see Tommy, he decided, running to his house and room to grab a small backpack. He shoved a bunch of snacks in it and a few bottles of water, a camera, and a pack of cards. He then threw on his coat again and started to make his way down the path, taking a few detours to take a few pictures, especially of Tommy's garden. He quickly pocketed the camera when he was done, excited to fill the camera with pictures of his best friend again. 

Tubbo trotted down the path, quickly entering the portal to continue down. Finally, after some time of traveling, he stood before the portal that leads to Tommy's Logshire home. Logshire? Logsted? Close enough, Tubbo thought with his mind racing. He was excited to see him but also anxious, what if Tommy was mad at him and didn't want to see him? Surely he would at least say hi, right? He stopped and shook his entire body, Tommy was on that side of the portal and that's all that mattered right now. So, he stepped through it. 

The first thing he felt was the cold, slipping his jacket back on as he walked through the purple magic. Then, it was the silence. There were no birds, no bugs, no animals, and no Tommy. Even the sea was still as he quickly looked around. Tubbo swallowed hard, "Tommy?" 

He began to walk a few feet forward as his stomach dropped. There was a wide hole in the ground replacing a tent. There was debris everywhere, scorched materials, broken glass, and loose items that survived somewhat intact. He quickly began running towards what should have been the house he had built, but just a crater in the Earth.

Tubbo froze and dropped to his knees by the hole, looking for anything, even blood. There was absolutely nothing left. Besides a tower. A tall, tall tower that he couldn't see the top of, where flowers and plants had begun to messily sprout from the dirt that the tower was made up of. 

The president of L'Manburg felt sick, despite being surrounded by it and even a subject of it, he almost forgot that children could die. He almost forgot that children could take their own lives. He almost forgot that neither of them had any lives left, all lost to wars they were raised in. It was almost inappropriate to call either of them children anymore. Either of them… No, now just one of them. The other was dead. He was dead. Tommy was dead. Tommy killed himself. No, Tommy was dead and Tubbo killed him. Tubbo drove him out. Tubbo made him jump. Tubbo pushed him over the edge with a fucking smile, didn't he? Oh God, Oh God it was all his fault. 

He felt sick, his head swimming. It was all his fault.

He didn’t feel his legs give out until his cheek was pressed against the cool dirt and there was nothing but the darkness around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this is bad aaaaaa

**Author's Note:**

> Comments help me a lot! Feel free to put theories, guess symbolism, etc. Criticism open!


End file.
